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Post by Cleo Phillips on Mar 5, 2023 5:07:02 GMT -5
The package begins with another disclaimer, setting up to present another moment in the Life of Cleo.
The following is a reenactment of a moment in the life of Cleopatra Phillips using paid actors and actresses, it may contain violence and subject matter not suited for young children.
Viewer Discretion is Advised.
A funeral sets the scene, the pastor just finishing up a sermon surrounding by pictures of a young blonde Caucasian woman, and grieving friends and family.
“And although young Juliet was known to hang out with some less than savory types, it was due to her kind nature and wanting to help gods lost children. Her graceful hands are with our lord and savior..” he says
As the pastor continues on, the cameras pan out, and catch Cleo's actress watching from a distance, trying not to be noticed.
“She begins her next journey now, we ask that you let her rest in peace dear lord.” the pastor finishes, followed by an amen from the crowd.
“If you would follow us now, for the lowering of the casket.” the pastor says.
The scene hard-cuts to a nearby area, as the casket is being lowered into the ground, we can see Cleo’s actress behind a tree in the distance. This time she catches the eye of an older woman, who wears a foul expression upon noticing Cleo.
Once the casket is lowered, and people go about their ways, the woman approaches Cleo with anger in her eyes.
“You weren’t invited.” she barked, “You need to leave before I call the police.”
Cleo put put palms up, trying to show she means no harm, “I’m sorry Mrs. Robertson…I meant no harm..”
“This is your fault.” the woman snapped back “You and your hoodlum friends. I don’t know why she hung around people like you, now she’s never coming back.”
“Look.I loved her okay?” Cleo replied, holding back her own tears, “She made me want to be better. I never wanted her to get hurt, she wasn’t even supposed to be there..”
“But she was.” Mrs. Robertson snapped back again, “Because of you. She wanted you anova all to better yourself, believed in you. But you failed her, because in the end you re nothing more than lowdown criminal scum.”
Cleo looks hurt by the comments, but respectfully keeps her cool.
“Fine, you want me to go?” said Cleo, “I’ll go. But you can’t blame me forever, and you can’t take away how we felt about each other. I’m just as upset about losing her as you are, and out of my love and respect for her, I’ll go as to not cause a scene. I just hope one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
With that Cleo walks off into the distance as Mrs. Robertson watches, still holding disdain in her eyes, as he scene fades to black.
_______
We open on Cleo Phillips, seated with her head against the wall of a locker room, her shades pushed on top of her head she wears an expression of both disappointment and anger.
“You know, I tried to be respectful Michael” she said, “When nobody else was. When everyone just saw you as the guy with a joke for a name, I saw more. I was the one who believed there was more to you, and I hoped that maybe being World Champion might allow you some room for growth. I even shook your hand, because I truly believed you were ready to show that growth. But you didn’t do that did you?”
She sighs heavily, shaking her head slightly to express her disappointment
“You drag up stories from my past like it’s a secret who I was before.” she continued, “I’ve done a whole lot worse than the petty crimes Big Mo’ told you about. Again trying to dig up my past, when I’ve been trying to look to the future.”
She rises to stand, but still stays leaning against the wall.
“It’s not even about the championship for me really.” said Cleo, “It’s about showing me the respect I’ve shown you. We went to war for over and hour and you still resort to actions like calling up Big Mo’ and opening up old wounds, now where you truly messed up was mentioning Juliet.
It’s at this moment she moves from the wall and looks into the camera directly and intensely.
“That was completely uncalled for.” Cleo continued, “I just wanted to go out there and see who the better fighter was, and you went and made things personal. You needed to make things personal, because you need your opponent off their guard to win. You don’t stand a chance against someone who’s actually focused.”
She sighs heavily and takes a few steps back, regaining some of her composure
“See, this is what you want isn’t it?” she continued, “Get me all riled up, knowing if I lose here then It’s back to the drawing board for The Body Snatcher. You didn’t need to bring Juliet up though. She was better than both of us, and I replay that day in my mind every day. I used to blame myself, but I’ve grown to accept that there was nothing I could do and there’s nothing I can do to change what happened. I can however change myself.”
She takes another sigh, and sits on a nearby locker room bench.
“You can too Michael.” she continued, “You don’t need to play these head games, take these personal shots. We went to war for over an hour, trust me I know. You can be so much better if you focused on your actual in-ring talent rather than your sophomoric humor. But you just don’t seem to listen, and that’s why I need to take that championship back. You are not ready to be or act as a proper champion. These people need a champion who wants to fight, not one who plays games and tries to make a mockery of their opponent. Whomever wins the memorial rumble deserves an opponent that shows them the respect they deserve for overcoming 29 other men and women. They deserve to go up against a warrior, and not the court jester. ”
She sighs again, shaking her head.
“I don’t get it Michael.” she continued, “ What do you have to prove by taking personal shots about a situation you know NOTHING about? You just make yourself look like a fool, a fool and his games. Now it’s time for the games to end Michael. You crossed the line, and now you must suffer the consequences of your actions. We handle business differently where I come from, and when a certain line is crossed it becomes a whole different situation.”
Her tone is serious, Hawks comments about her deceased lover still rattling in her mind. Maybe he wanted this, because she knew one thing for sure, championship or not…
“I’m about to take your head off.” she said, “I tried being nice, but you just kept playing games. That’s the problem Michael, you play too much. I need to take that belt away from you, it’s the only way you’re going to learn. Maybe then you’ll realize what you lost and understand the lesson I’ve been trying to teach you this entire time.”
She laughs to herself slightly.
“Or maybe you’ll continue to dig up old stories about me, without giving all the details. Like how that kid in my high school class called me a racial slur, and that’s why I punched his eye out of the socket.” she said, “Did Big Mo’ tell you about the one where I broke a guys arm for trying to steal Juliet’s purse? Point is, I don’t need to hide anything from my pas. I did the things I did, and many times it wasn’t always justified. I make no excuses and I’ll have to live knowing about some of the things I’ve done, the trauma I caused upon innocent people for the rest of my life. So if you think my mind is weak, Michael. Then you’re greatly mistaken because my mind has been through some of the toughest shit one can have thrown at it, and I still sand here. I’ve been places where comments like yours could end up with your body in a ditch somewhere, no cap.”
She pauses, making it clear she’s not joking.
“I was never no killer, but I knew some, and they wouldn’t hesitate a moment to pop you one if you said something to them like what you said to me.”she continued, “What I can do is take everything from you, because you truly need that World Championship more than I do. Losing it so quickly would break you, it would probably be the worst possible thing that could happen to someone like you,and THAT is my goal. I know I can be a fighter, and have a champions heart without having a belt around my waist, but you can’t. You’re a case of the championship making the man, and not the man making the championship.”
She begins rubbing her hands together, and keeps her stare in the camera.
“There’s no hour long marathon this time Michael. Just a good ol’ fashioned fight, one fall winner takes all. Meaning you get no second chances, once I put your shoulders down, that’s it. No chance for you to catch up.” she said, “It’s time I become the first two time World Champion in PWS history, chalk Mike Hawk up as just another bump in the road and be the champion this company deserves. This will be our final showdown Michael, and win or lose, you will learn what lines not to cross, because more than ever before I am going to……SET IT OFF!!
She continues giving a serious, intimidating look into the camera, until it fades to black.
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Cleo was enjoying a coffee on a street-side London cafe, when the woman approached her. At first she didn’t recognize the lady, but after a few moments of looking into her eyes, it all came flashing back.
“Mrs. Robertson?” she said surprised, “Uh, what are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” the woman replied.
“Hey…” Cleo said worried, rising up to her feet, “I don’t want any trouble. I’ve made changes in my life….”
“I know.” Mrs. Robertson replied, “You remember Jacob.?”
A young child about ten appears from behind his moms legs.
“Juliet’s brother…yeah, last time I saw him he was just a little guy..” replied Cleo.
“He’s become quite the fan of yours.” Mrs. Robertson explained, “I wasn’t thrilled at first when I heard your name come up again, so I started watching. I guess I was expecting the worst, but what I saw was not the person I remembered. You know we all have growing to do, including myself and I just wanted to say…I forgive you. I see the change you’ve made, and how you inspire the next generation and I know my daughter would have been proud.”
“You flew out to London to tell me that?” asked Cleo
“Not entirely.” replied Mrs Robertson, “Taking Jacob to see Demons Run live actually. That little prick disrespected my daughter, I wanna see him get what’s coming to him.”
“Kick his butt for being mean about my sister.” Jacob smiled, from behind his mom.
“Oh I will little man.” Cleo smiled, “Hey how about a picture?”
That got a smile out of the kid, and he quickly rushed to Cleo’s side, as his mother took a photo of the two. These weren’t the people she expected to see, nor did she ever expect forgiveness. But Mrs. Robertson was right, there was a chance for everyone to change. Cleo putting her criminal ways behind her, Mrs. Robertson putting her bigotry and hatred behind her. Could there still be such growth for Mike Hawk? Whatever happens, he had better think of something soon because he had an honest to god fight coming his way.
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Post by Mike Hawk on Mar 6, 2023 22:38:44 GMT -5
Act 1: That’s the Powell of Love
*In the PWS locker room, there’s a wooden chair and white plastic table set up. Mike Hawk, the world champion, comes on-screen. He’s dressed in a full black suit with a blue tie, along with a black armband that says “NIC” on it, visible mostly through the white text. Mike sits down, looking into the camera.*
Mike Hawk: Um… so, I will get to my promo, I just… I wanted to take some time here to talk about something that’s been on my mind since it happened. I even got dressed up for it. It felt like the respectful thing to do.
*He pauses, taking a deep breath, setting his belt down on the table.*
Mike: As you probably know, Nic Powell, the co-founder of PWS: Apex, recently passed away. And, given that this show is intended as a memorial to him, I wanted to take this time to tell you my thoughts. On Nic, what he did for me, and the impact he’s left on this company as a whole. I haven’t spoken on it yet, because I was told this would be a memorial show and wanted to save it for that. But now that I’m here, I wanted to tell you that this man is remembered fondly for a damn good reason.
*He takes another pause, taking a few visible breaths before clearing his throat.*
Mike: Nic was one of the ones who’s always liked me. Even back when I would squeeze jokes in every other word of my promos even if it KILLED them, when I went on my losing streak in the middle of my PWS career, HE believed in me, because there was something he saw in me. A little spark that wouldn’t go out. That spark that’s now fully ignited, and given you the world champion you see before you today. I wish I could thank him for that, but… I think this is the best I can do. Without Nic’s encouragement, without him pushing for Mike Hawk to go far in this company, I might not have gotten the opportunities I did. Without him, there would BE no Mike Hawk. At least, not as champion. Hell, I might not even be here! And for that ALONE I owe my entire career in PWS to Nic, but he’s done so much more than just that!
*He pauses, patting the face of the title belt.*
Mike: Without Nic, this title means nothing. Without his influence, without him promoting this company, without his hard work and dedication, nobody would care about this belt, this would be just some meaningless trinket. Now it wouldn’t be anywhere NEAR as prestigious as it is, it wouldn’t mean as much as it does, and I wouldn’t have wanted it as much as I did, if it wasn’t for Nic.
*Mike pauses, lost in thought for a moment, putting a hand on his chin as he rests it on the table.*
Mike: Hell, this entire COMPANY wouldn’t be what it is without Nic! I don’t even know if PWS: Apex would have even existed if it weren’t for him. It was his brilliant mind that helped come up with it in the first place! Demon’s Run was his idea; he came up with the title for it, and us making this show a memorial to him, to remember the man who made PWS what it is today, is honestly the LEAST we could do. The impact he had on this company, and on the sport of professional wrestling as a whole, is staggering! And personally he was a good guy, too. If I ever voiced a complaint to him, he’d take it in stride. He’d hear me out, calmly, and then, equally calmly, explain the situation and take full responsibility if it was a mistake on his part, and that would be that. Honestly, coming from a Canadian, he was the most Canadian American I’ve ever known, if that makes sense. He was polite and never raised his voice, even on big issues. But you could tell he was still passionate, even until the very end he never lost that fire. Even when other people wrote off PWS as a joke, a company that’d never be as big as the major leagues, he never lost hope.
*Mike pauses, closing his eyes, his head pointed down, then opening them again as he looks into the camera.*
Mike: But he was more than just an employer. He was a friend. A friend to everyone he knew. He was approachable and kind, and the world without him is exponentially darker. But we’ll always have the memories he left, and the things that his legacy helped build. This title, this company, and the countless careers he’s elevated over the years.
*He stops, fighting back tears as he looks up at the sky, patting the “NIC” armband.*
Mike: I miss ya, buddy. Thanks for everything.
Act 2: I See London, I see… That’s it, just London.
*At the top of Big Ben resides a gigantic bell. The Great Bell, from which the tower gets its nickname. It’s the evening, maybe 5 or 6 PM. The sun’s still out, but looks like it could be coaxed into setting. Inside, with the bell, is a man. A particular man, in fact. PWS: Apex world champion Mike Hawk. He’s dressed in a thin, black jacket with a white t-shirt underneath that reads “Stop Reading My Shirt, You Idiot!”, and he’s got his title draped over his shoulder. He notices the camera and turns to face it, a smirk on his face as he adjusts the belt.*
Mike: Hey, Cleo! What are you doing here?
*He pauses for a second, his smirk fading into a grim seriousness.*
Mike: No, seriously… what are you DOING here? We both know how this goes already, right? What, do you think fighting me for LESS time will somehow be better? Don’t forget who scored the first fall in that match! And I mean, sure, maybe you’re a little more pissed off now, because of our segment on Riot last week… y’know, that whole Big Mo thing, but that doesn’t change a goddamn thing. Because despite your best efforts, I’m STILL the PWS: Apex world champion! I not only beat you, I beat you FOUR FUCKING TIMES. And nothing you can do can change the fact that I have the belt you once called yours… because I want this SO much more than you.
*He stops momentarily, walking to the ledge and looking down at the city below. It’s busy, everyone seems to be driving home from work at this point. There are people out on their hotel balconies, and even one woman caught on-camera walking her dog. Hawk steps back from the ledge, looking over at the camera again.*
Mike: But let’s circle back to that, because there’s an elephant in this room, and I want to talk about it and get it out of here before it crushes the furniture. During our little kerfuffle last week, you said I was taking all the respect that I had earned from you and I was tarnishing it. And y’know what? …That’s fair. Maybe I WAS being disrespectful. Or maybe that was the point. Maybe I wanted to get to you, to prove that despite your outward appearance of not giving a shit about your past, you still dwell on it. I’ve planted a seed of doubt in your mind, and as I personally know… that little seed is all it takes. And soon it’ll bloom into a tree of woe. But I think you’re only so angry because you don’t realize that people can be multifaceted. People can be more than one thing. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? You’re too one-note to understand. You’ve got one character trait, and it’s “New Yorker”. You come in, you talk about the Bronx, about how people are tougher when they’ve been raised the way you have, blah, blah, blah, then you go backstage to eat pizza with weirdly-big slices of pepperoni on it.
*He pauses to take a deep breath, walking to an adjoining side of the tower.*
Mike: Whereas I, Cleo? I can adapt to fit the situation. Unlike yours, my personality has a lot of layers to it. Sure, I’m disrespectful. I’m also flippant. I’m obnoxious. I’m a little self-centered. But I’m also passionate. I’m driven. I’m charismatic. I’m OFFENSIVELY physically attractive, but most importantly, Cleo… when I have something I want, something I’m fighting for, I’m RELENTLESS. I’m BRUTAL. I will stop at nothing, leave no stone unturned, if it means achieving my goal. You know that personally, don’t you? I will take every opportunity possible in order to win.
*Another pause, to think carefully about his next words, pondering as he glances down for a few moments, before looking back up at the camera.*
Mike: And that’s something you don’t seem to care for, Cleo. You didn’t seem to mind when I took every opportunity to WIN the title, but now? Doing the same thing to KEEP it? Now you have a problem with it. Just because I used mind games on you to try and score a victory that I deserve, suddenly I’m the bad guy? It’s “disrespectful” to use the same tactics I already used? The man revered as a hero is suddenly a monster because YOU’RE not emotionally mature enough to let the past go?
*He sighs, dragging his fingers along the railing of the clock tower, bringing it up to his face to see the dust he’s brought up with them before flicking said dust off over the same railing.*
Mike: Honestly, Cleo, what’s so wrong with my strategy, hmm? I exploited every possible advantage I could, which is exactly what a champion does! It’s what warriors have ALWAYS done. The WINNERS, anyway. And hey, some warriors took your route, of fighting with honour and respect. Y’know what’d happen to them, Cleo? They’d be killed by people like me. People who exploit weaknesses, find and jump at opportunities as soon as they come up! There’s a story about Sun Tzu; the first couple of people he gave orders to, a couple of concubines favoured by the king, refused to take his orders. So he had them killed, and the people who replaced them listened, because they knew the repercussions. He saw an opportunity to make his soldiers listen to him, and he took it. Imagine if Sun Tzu had been like you. Fighting honourably, obeying the rules of the king. The art of war would never have been written, and the military would be in shambles, all because one man decided not to jump on an opportunity that was handed to him on a silver platter. Because that’s what the victors did. They took opportunities. And maybe it makes me a bad person to agree with one of the military’s most ruthless strategists of all time, but it also makes me a WINNER. And, let’s be real, fans are still gonna cheer for me anyway.
*He smirks, exhaling sharply from his nose as he stifles a chuckle.*
Mike: Let me be honest with you, Cleo. Between you and me, nobody wants to see you win this, okay? Seriously. Your story is over. You were raised in the Bronx, you were forced to run with gangs in order to make ends meet, turned your life around, and became the world champion. An inspiration for kids everywhere! Underprivileged youth who want to be pro wrestlers just like you now look up to Cleo Phillips. That’s great!
*Hawk’s smirk fades in an instant as he glares into the camera.*
Mike: You’re done now. It’s over. Your story’s come full circle. You should be happy! You’ve achieved your goal, sent your message, got your happy ending, and now you can move over and let the next story play out. Because you’ve already won the title, and held it for what, like, a year and a half? Nobody wants to see that again! The fine people that make up the PWS fanbase, they want something new. If they wanted the same tired old stories with bland characters week after week they could watch The Big Bang Theory. They’re ready for the next chapter, and I’m the one to turn the page. Don’t believe me? Listen to the reactions when I step through the curtain! Because I am the future, Cleo. You, Cleo, you’re established. You’ve won just about every title there is TO win. But me? I’m a fresh face. I’m something new. I’m something they’ve never SEEN before, and they LOVE me for it. Because I’m revolutionary. There’s never been an Apex world champion quite like me. I represent a new era of professional wrestling. A movement. An UPRISING! I represent the little guy. And we’re sick and goddamn TIRED of being treated as LESSER just for not being a cut-and-paste, cookie cutter, dime-a-dozen “tough as nails” pro wrestler!
*He stops, cracking his knuckles, taking his title off one shoulder and putting it on the other.*
Mike: And that’s exactly where the next story begins. It’s a story about us. All of us. Every single wrestler who was ever told “you’ll never win a world title”. Every rookie who tried something new and got smacked down to the mat every time! Every little guy, every underdog, who just wants to win a title belt, not for any fame or glory, but just to say that they DID. To say that they COULD. To prove EVERYBODY wrong who said that they’d be UNFIT to be a champion!
*Another brief pause here, as Mike zips up his coat, inhaling deploy before continuing.*
Mike: This is a story about me. A little boy who was told he’d never be anything but a CLOWN. A boy who was told he’d never amount to anything if he didn’t take life seriously. A boy who had a lifelong dream of winning a world championship in professional wrestling, but was laughed out of the classroom when he said it out loud. A boy who learned to believe in HIMSELF, because NOBODY ELSE BELIEVED IN HIM! This is my story, Cleo. And I WON’T let you ruin it!
*He pauses again, this time contemplating, putting a hand across his mouth. He holds back tears as he moves it back away, looking back at the camera.*
Mike: But, as of recently, there’s another thing I’m fighting for. A man who believed in me when nobody else did. Nic Powell. Nic pushed to give me the world title, he was a huge fan of mine! And I feel like if I don’t treat this title reign with the gravitas it deserves, if I let it slip away from me, if I don’t give it 1000 percent… then wherever he is, he’ll be disappointed in me. One of his final acts, approving my title match with you, will be in vain. And I CAN’T let that happen. I can’t let you take that away from ME, from the FANS, or from the company that he helped BUILD from the GROUND UP!
*Mike stops, taking another few deep breaths to stop the tears forming in his eyes.*
Mike: And that’s why I want this more than you. Because it’s not just about WANT, is it? This is about NEED. I NEED to beat you, Cleo. I NEED to win this match. For me, for the fans, for Nic, for everyone who’s ever felt like me. Every wrestling legend-to-be who was denied that opportunity time and time again. Every underdog through history who had to exploit every opportunity they were given JUST to SURVIVE! Everyone who’s ever sincerely been told those two heartbreaking words: “You can’t”.
*He pauses, taking a moment to calm himself down with some deep breathing, before looking into the camera, giving a little smile.*
Mike: But you can. And I’m living proof of that! Despite all of the problems I’ve had throughout my career, I pushed through, and I won the greatest prize of my life. I pushed through anger, sadness, anxiety, fear… yes, Cleo, I’m scared. Okay? You caught me. But I’ve learned… fear isn’t debilitating. In fact, if you work through it, do what you were hesitant to do because of the overwhelming fear, then it can be a great motivator. Whatever you’re scared of, you won’t, you CAN’T, let it happen! And I bet being a woman without fear, Cleo, is seeming an awful lot worse now, isn’t it? You thought that it gave you a leg-up in this match, but tell me, if an animal is cornered by a predator, fighting for its life, how hard do you think it’s gonna try to stay alive? It’s called fight or flight for a reason, Cleo, and this is one Hawk that NEVER. CHOOSES. FLIGHT.
*His smile turns into a smirk again.*
Mike: So I intend to go the distance. Win the match despite everything stacked against me. To show you, and the world, how powerful a motivator fear can be. Hey, I did it once already, so you should know from experience that I can. Outside the ring, I get angry, I get scared, I get anxious, and I save it ALL for the match. THIS is my outlet! Once I step through those ropes, I use all of that to fuel me. When I’m in the ring, facing down an opponent, I’m not that anxious, angry, scared little boy anymore. I’m an emotional juggernaut.
*He moves his title back to the first shoulder it was on, facing the camera, looking down the lens with steely determination as he speaks.*
Mike: And if you’re at all familiar with Marvel comics, Cleo, you oughta know… nothing can stop the Juggernaut.
*A small pause. Hawk gives a little smirk, before turning around, walking down the stairs of the tower, out of sight, as the camera slowly fades to black.*
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